Departure
by TheWritingFreak
Summary: AU: Maybe if they had taken a chance they wouldn't be worlds apart and lost to each other forever. But if they're lucky maybe fate will bring them together. /Naley/


**So, this story came from my thoughts on a tragic event that happened in my school a couple years ago. Some of you may or may not be familiar with the feeling of losing someone in your grade, your best friend, or even a family member but if you have just know you aren't alone. Feel free to share your stories (if you have them) in your reviews or in a PM message.  
****Special thanks goes to my friends: **_BeautifullyUnbroken23_ and_ MelAshyBaby_. **Honestly, I don't know what this story would be without your guys input.**

**For each chapter I will be giving songs to listen to that I think add to the story. For this chapter it wa****s "42" by Coldplay.**

**This chapter contains character death and some rough language, just so you know, AND everything is not as it seems so please bear with me.**

* * *

_Gone yet not forgotten, although we are apart, your spirit lives within me, forever in my heart._  
**\- Author Unknown**

* * *

It happened on the bridge. The god awful bridge with dim streetlamps, and empty beer and soda cans among the cigarette butts that people had carelessly thrown out of their open car windows.

The crash.

The story is generic, horribly commonplace, yet tragic just the same. It was a dark night. Two high school students were driving- one car happened to not see the other and everything happened so fast it was impossible to stop. The day after it happened the newspaper headlines screamed of the injustice. Major news networks picked up the story as well. Rumors spread like wildfire, and questions were asked among the townspeople of whether there was alcohol or drugs involved.

Some shrugged it off, clucking their tongues disparagingly. Others showed their support through social media. And parents became worried about their own children, hoping that they too wouldn't have the same fate as the unfortunate two who started this whole debacle.

At Tree Hill High School their names were whispered in the hallways. Murmured about behind classroom doors.

_Peyton Sawyer_.

_Haley James_.

People who knew them had heavy hearts and solemn faces. It had been reported that Peyton was in a coma and unlikely to wake, and Haley was... gone. Poof. Like smoke or a breath of fresh air. Their reality is harsh because even the thought that something like this could have happened to them, and could still happen, is bone chilling.

* * *

**May 5, 2007: Saturday**

The River Court was usually quiet but on this particular morning, as the sun rises, a young man plays.  
His breaths could be heard, his healthy heart beating steadily. The dulls thumps of the basketball as it bounced. The scrape of his shoes on the pavement and the swish of the net.

A small silver car parks itself by the picnic table that sits courtside and out of it comes Brooke Davis. She shuts her door and waits for him to acknowledge her.

He doesn't.

"I thought I'd find you here Nathan." she says after a couple minutes, loud enough for him to hear.

"What do you want?" he says, purposely not looking at her. "Did anything change?"

Brooke watches him sink his ball into the hoop, then sighs and gives him a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Peyton had surgery last night because of a blood vessel that burst in her brain. Luke was with her when she started seizing- scared him half to death." she heaves a deep sigh before continuing. "God... he's so afraid of losing her. I'm worried about him. Hell, I'm worried about her too."

Nathan goes up for a layup, makes it in, and begins to dribble up the court. Brooke, having had enough of being ignored, slaps the ball from him. And despite her weight and size, takes two handfuls of his hoodie, shaking him.  
"Damnit Nathan, look at me! Respond. Think of someone besides yourself for once! Your brother is hurting! Mr. Sawyer is hurting! And what do you do?! You freaking play basketball!"

She shoves him backwards and he stumbles a few steps before regaining his footing.

"Do you want to hear how afraid I am? Huh?" he retorts, slapping his chest. "Do you want to hear how I can't sleep at night, thinking of what happened to Peyton? She is my ex-girlfriend, I care for her. I care! And Haley? My god, I didn't even know the girl and I feel like I'm about to die- literally fall down, right here, and die! I hate her for dying... and I hate that I didn't get to know her. I wanted to, so much, but I never pulled up courage to do it because... well, because I didn't... and now I can't because she's _dead_."

Brooke, appropriately chastised, brushes tears from her cheeks and hugs him as he lets out shuddering breaths.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt that way... I didn't realize how much this affects you too."

**.._..**

She drops him off at his house about half an hour later and instructs him to take a shower and be ready to go in two hours. Despite his unwillingness to do so he's ready when she comes back again to pick him up.

"I just dropped Luke off at Karen's house. He didn't want to leave Peyton but he looked like hell, so I told him he needed to clean himself up, otherwise he wouldn't be good to anyone- especially her. Despite that convincing evidence I still had to practically had to drag him out of there. Honestly, I don't know who is more stubborn- you or him." She glances at Nathan and the blank look he wears out of the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry, am I talking too much?"

"No, it's fine. Really."

"Ok, good, because I can't help but talk when I'm tired. Yet even though I'm tired, I don't know if I'd be able to sleep- even if I wanted to."

"I've noticed. You handle sleep deprivation about a well as you did a few years ago- not very well." he says dryly.

"You don't get to insult me Nate, I've been playing chauffeur for everybody and their brother this morning."

Nathan cracks a small smile at her joke.  
"Ok, no more insults. Promise."

"Good."

Their conversation hits a lull and Brooke turns on the radio to fill in the emptiness of their silence, a silence that becomes heavy as the station is turned and a reporter' voice comes through the speakers.  
Brooke goes to turn it off but Nathan holds back her wrist, listening.

"... for Haley James there is to be a wake later this afternoon for those in the community who want to say goodbye to a soul lost too soon. Peyton Sawyer, the other victim in the crash, is still in critical condition and her father refuses to answer any other questions. Back to you Dave."

"Alright, thank you Bill. Now..."

Nathan lets go of Brooke and the radio is quiet once again. The silence is deafening.

"You okay?"

He fiddles with the cuff of his basketball jacket.  
"I think I should go later today. Say goodbye, pay my respects."

Brooke doesn't respond because there is nothing to say. Nothing she could say would make this better.

**.._..**

Later, when Brooke goes to get coffee, Nathan stands at the foot of Peyton's hospital bed. Just looking at her.

Most of the top part of her head concealed in white gauze and what can be seen of her blond hair is shorter than ever before. She has scrapes, cuts and scratches on face. Wires are everywhere, the machines monitoring her vital signs beep annoyingly, and he can't help but notice how the hospital gown doesn't fit quite right.

Nathan doesn't want to look at his friend this way- helpless, unable to do anything- because it was unnatural. This girl, lying in this bed, isn't the girl he's known all his life.

The girl he knows would have long since snapped at him for staring at her too long. She wouldn't be laying here motionless- she'd be drawing her depressing pictures while listening to freaky music. She would be wearing her black leather jacket, trying and definitely succeeding in shedding the typical cheerleader stereotype. Everything this girl is can't ever be associated with Peyton.

Nathan shakes his head to remove these somber thoughts from his head and moves toward the head of the bed. He pulls the worn upholstered hospital chair closer, and after a moment of hesitation he holds one of her hands with both of his. It's icy cold so he rubs it until it's warm again. As Nathan holds her hand he remembers something she said to him once.

She had said, '_I read a poem once about a girl who had a crush on a guy that died. She imagined him up in heaven with all the beautiful angels and she was jealous._' Peyton had continued to talk about other things but those are the words that come to his mind in that moment.

He thinks of Haley, except the roles are reversed. The bad boy liking the pretty tutor girl from afar, never having enough courage to face his peers and turn his back on the high school social standard to even talk to her. It's a sick joke.  
And even though Haley is gone, Peyton isn't. So he talks to her. He had heard that it helps the person in the coma.

"I loved you once Peyt" he says softly. "...and even if it didn't work out between us you still have me. Lucas is... completely in love with you. He told me he has been ever since you almost ran him over with your car... and as I say it now it sounds a little strange given your circumstances, but the point is that you can't leave him because he won't survive without you and you smart ass comments. And Brooke... she needs her best friend back. She's trying her hardest not to lose it. We all are, so you need to wake up. You're our glue. So you can't leave."

**.._..**

Later that afternoon Nathan finds himself standing in front of his mirror in his room. He flips up the collar of his white dress shirt, places his tie around his neck, and after attempting several times to tie it ends up ripping it off.

He runs his shaking hands through his jet black hair and stares at his eyes in the mirror, which are rimmed in red. His mind is filled with what if's and what could have been's.

"Damn it." he swears. "Get your shit together Nate."

Once he is calm, he opts against the tie and shrugs on his jacket before slamming his apartment door behind himself.

**.._..**

Nathan finds himself shaking again as he steps into the room where the wake is being held.

He doesn't want to see Haley like he saw Peyton today- lifeless and unresponsive- because it would only hurt worse knowing that Haley would never have a chance at waking up again. He doesn't want to see people crying over her- friends, siblings, and especially her parents.

But it's too late. It's already happening, and he is already seeing it. And he can't leave no matter how much he wants to.

The casket is on the far side of the room, closed, and he can only imagine why. Haley's senior picture is enlarged on a picture stand beside it, and she is smiling widely, her hair glowing in the sunlight, with her large brown eyes sparkling. And even with the ugly poncho and jeans she wore, she was still pretty.

He signs his name in the guest log and grabs a memorial card.

'_Haley Bob James 1990-2007_', '_Gone Yet Never Forgotten_'

Under the words her formal senior picture is displayed, where she is wearing the black drape made to look like a dress and the signature pearl necklace. Her smile is wide and the expression she wears is open and hopeful for the future.

A woman dressed all in black comes up to him and touches his elbow.  
"Did you know Haley?"

He looks at her for a moment, observing her face and remembers seeing her once. She is Haley's mother.  
He clears his throat before answering.

"Yes ma'am I did."

"How did you know her?"

"I, uh... she was my tutor. You see, I'm the kind of guy who is focused more on basketball rather than school and she really helped me raise my grades in all my classes. She helped me so much and I'm sorry she's gone." he breathes a small sigh of relief at how easily the lie rolls off his tongue but he hates lying to Haley's mom.

Lydia smiles and wipes at her eyes.  
"That sounds like her- she always wanted to help people. Even when she was younger that was very clear."

"I believe it."

She gives him a tight smile and hugs him.  
"Thank you for coming- I think she would have appreciated it."

Lydia goes to walk away but he catches her arm.

"Mrs. James, if you ever need anything I'd like to help you, so please let me know."

"I will, thank you..."

"Nathan. Nathan Scott."

"Nathan. Thank you Nathan. But please, call me Lydia."

"I will. I'm sorry for your loss."

Lydia goes on to talk to other people and Nathan sees Brooke slip in the doorway.

"I'm glad you came because I didn't know if you would." his words are muffled by her hair as he hugs her.

Her arms wrap around him, and they stand there that way for a few moments.  
She pulls away and searches his face.

"You know, I wasn't sure if I'd come either. But I think I needed to." She brushes a lock of hair from her face. "If the roles were reversed and Peyton had died instead, I think Haley would have come if she could. I didn't know her but seeing all these people here she must have been a good person- right? I mean, you don't have this many people mourning over you unless they cared. Unless you cared about them."

They look around the room silently.

"Isn't that the point of it all?" he asks quietly after a moment. "To live a life to be proud of? For people, after you're gone, to look at you and your life accomplishments and go 'wow- now there's a person I want to be like when I grow older.'? ...It took Haley dying to figure out what kind of person she was... I'm done being that guy. The one that treats people like shit just because he can. I'm done with that Brooke- I don't care anymore. I'm going to change."

**.._..**

Nathan wakes up in a cold sweat.

The dream was so vivid that it has burned itself onto the back of his eyelids and every time he blinks he sees shattered glass on the floor of the car. Smells the gasoline. And his chest hurts from breathing in nonexistent smoke.

As Nathan' pounding heart slows he gets flashes of his dream.

Blinding headlights.  
Blaring music.  
Tires skidding.  
The screeching of bending metal.

"Oh Nathan... I'm so sorry."

The voice is barely audible but it is there. With bated breath he sits up and listens.

When he doesn't hear anything else he thinks what he heard may have been a figment of his imagination and lays back down. But there is something nagging at him in the back of his mind so he fumbles for his bedside lamp and the room is flooded with light.

On the empty side of his bed sits a girl.

He looks her up and down, too surprised to do anything, his breath too caught in his throat to yelp in surprise. Then his mouth catches up to his brain, but it can't be.

"Haley?"

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**So, too weird? Or do you like it? Let me know in the comment box below. I'd love to hear from you.**


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